The Words
by BonnieD
Summary: Will Ryan and Summer's relationship continue to the next level or will they break up? Sequel to "Summer Time" and "Summer in Chino".
1. Default Chapter

"The Words" – chapter 1 PG-13  
  
Set in my Ryan/Summer AU (for the story of how Ryan and Summer got together, see "Summer Time" and "Summer in Chino," also "Seth Gets Lucky" although the last one is not necessary). Is it time for Ryan and Summer to reach a new level of commitment or is it time to break up?  
  
For new readers: This AU split off in the middle of the Oliver debacle and anything that came after may or may not have been changed. My version of Summer's family life is a little different than the doting father they show in canon.  
  
Note: The candles that Kirsten placed around the pool house is an image from someone else's story, but I can't remember who to credit. Anyway, I liked the idea that Ryan has only partially made the pool house his place and still hesitates to change any decoration that Kirsten chose.

* * *

"All right. What's wrong," Ryan snapped in exasperation. "Whatever it is, just tell me 'cause you're driving me crazy."  
  
"What?" Summer bounced the soccer ball on her knee one last time then looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about."  
  
"Something's on your mind." He smoothed the rumpled bedcover and tossed the pillows back in place. "You haven't said two words all night and you keep ... fidgeting."  
  
"'Fidgeting'? Is that even still a word, grandpa? I don't 'fidget.'" She kicked the ball lightly in the general direction of where it lived in the corner of the room, and then picked up one of the scented candles Kirsten had long ago left scattered around the room. Candles that Ryan had neither lit nor removed from where she placed them. Summer rolled the smooth wax pillar between her hands and raised it to her nose to catch its scent.  
  
"Fussing then," he replied.  
  
Summer simply shrugged, put the candle back in place and proceeded to flick on the TV and begin channel surfing.  
  
Ryan sighed. It wasn't often that Summer got into a bad mood. Overall she was pretty good-natured if self-involved and stubborn. But it was clear that something was bothering her today. Had been all day. Come to think of it, she had been acting restless and unsettled all week.  
  
He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, gently disengaging the remote from her hand and pressing the mute button.  
  
"You want to tell me what's wrong?" he asked quietly, his breath blowing the tendrils of hair by her ear. He continued to hold her, and he almost thought he could feel the tension in the muscles of her back pressed against his chest, but she still gave no answer. "Please," he added.  
  
"I think...." she finally said and then fell silent again.  
  
Ryan waited patiently.  
  
She drew a long, shuddering breath and pulled away from his enfolding arms, walking toward the TV and turning it off with a tap of the button on the front. "I think," she repeated slowly, staring at the blank screen, "that we should ... spend some time ... apart."  
  
Ryan felt like he'd been kicked in the gut. "What?"  
  
"I want to be, um, single for a while," she continued haltingly. "Not, like, to date other people or anything, but just to be ... alone I guess."  
  
"Alone," he repeated dully.  
  
She nodded, her fingers drumming nervously on top of the television. "I think it might be ... might be good for us."  
  
"Why?" His jaw tightened as he tried to keep his temper in check and his voice calm and reasonable.  
  
She shrugged and answered in a small voice. "I don't know."  
  
"Are you mad about something?" he couldn't help asking. "Something I said or did ... or forgot to do? If you are, we can talk about it. Maybe fix it...."  
  
"No!" she exclaimed. "It's nothing like that. It just seems ... like the right thing to do. For now anyway. I need to spend some time by myself."  
  
Ryan nodded once, even though her back was turned and she couldn't see him. His eyes closed then opened again, but nothing had changed. "So ... you're breaking up with me," he stated, still in the same calm, flat tone.  
  
"Not 'breaking up' just taking a break," Summer explained, wiping her hand across the TV screen and then examining it for dust. "A break," she repeated more firmly, as if repetition gave more credence to the idea. "For a little while."  
  
"That's what you want?" Ryan's voice was cool. Reserved.  
  
"Y-yes, I think so," Summer stuttered a little over the words. She swept a quick glance at him. Her eyes touched his and moved away again, like a bird briefly landing then taking off.  
  
"Okay," he said.  
  
"Okay?" she sounded startled at the easiness of his reply and her eyes flew back to his again, but his gaze was as black and blank as the TV screen.  
  
He shrugged. "What else can I say?" he asked. "If it's what you want, there's not much I can do about it is there?"  
  
"No. I guess not." Summer's mouth tightened into a thin line and she blinked quickly a couple of times. She cleared her throat and swallowed. "Well ... all right then." She started for the door, sweeping quickly past Ryan and retrieving her purse from the chair. "I guess we should start now ... with the time alone."  
  
She hesitated with her hand on the doorknob, turning around to look at Ryan's ramrod straight back. He didn't answer or move from his frozen position in the center of the room. Summer sighed silently and let herself out the door.

* * *

Summer leaned against the pool house door, trying to calm her pounding heart and to slow her breathing to something not resembling a sprinter at the end of a race. She couldn't believe she had done it. She had regretted the words the moment they came tumbling from her mouth but she had regretted Ryan's lack of reaction more.  
  
But it didn't surprise her. Emotional distance was his forte after all. It shouldn't have hurt so much to have him shut down like that. Funny, but even though she was the one to do the breaking off, she felt as if it was he who had tossed her out on her ass.  
  
She started to walk away from the pool house, hoping that any second the door would open and Ryan would come after her. That's what would happen on The Valley. Then there would be a dramatic make up scene in which the lovers would reveal their hidden fears and self doubts, ending with a beautiful, passionate kiss as the camera pulled back and moved up to finish the show on an overhead view of the city with the couple just a dot in the panorama.  
  
But Ryan didn't follow her.  
  
Summer walked to her jeep and tears began to well in her eyes. She blinked furiously and sniffed hard, damned if she was going to allow herself to cry. She had made this choice and now she was going to have to live with it.  
  
It was for the best after all, just like she'd told Ryan. That part hadn't been a lie. She did need to be alone, to be less dependent on Ryan's presence, because if she didn't stop this relationship now somebody was going to get hurt and most likely that somebody was going to be her.  
  
It had started last week. No. It had actually started last summer, the first time she had felt like saying The Words and had stopped herself just in time. Saying "I love you" was like inviting heartbreak to come in, sit down for a cup of tea and put its feet up on your favorite coffee table. Ryan and Summer had tacitly agreed from the start that their relationship would be light and easy, not bogged down in commitment and neediness. Summer was determined to keep it that way.  
  
Even though Ryan had mumbled a "Love you" to her in the middle of that crisis with his mom, Summer hadn't taken it literally. Not really, because they weren't that type of couple. They were more like good friends, very good friends, with benefits. And to prove how sensible the arrangement was they had sailed through five months together without a hitch.  
  
But lately.  
  
Lately.  
  
Summer didn't like the way she was feeling.  
  
Since they'd first become involved, being with Ryan had both excited her and strangely soothed her. The thought of him was thrilling and comforting at the same time. While there was an emotional easiness between them, there was also a physical dynamic that was like a raging fire.  
  
But recently Summer felt achy and yearning when Ryan wasn't around and pathetically eager every time he was near. She felt like she had when she first wanted and couldn't have him; anxious, hungry and unfulfilled. Even when he was in her arms or inside her body, she wanted ... something. She wanted more. And that was a scary place to be. She knew where these feelings led. They led to her proclaiming her love like some heartsick, melodramatic schoolgirl and Ryan extricating himself from the relationship as soon as humanly possible.  
  
His reaction to her tonight was proof of that. He didn't care. He always kept some part of himself aloof. She had known that going in and it hadn't bothered her then – back when this was just about enjoying each other and nothing more.  
  
Summer had tried valiantly to keep it shallow but her stupid heart had fallen into the deep end.  
  
So this new thing, 'being alone' was the only sensible, sane route for her to take. She broke with Ryan before he had a chance to break with her. She kept herself safe.  
  
But if it had been such a great idea, why did she feel like shit?

* * *

Ryan stayed where Summer had left him for a good five minutes. He stood in the center of the quiet room and listened for her footsteps outside walking away or for her to change her mind, open the door again, come in and tell him it was all a mistake, a silly joke or a bad mood.  
  
But after a minute she did walk away and Ryan continued to stand, frozen in place, waiting for his brain to tell him what to do next.  
  
He should have known better than to begin to trust and to feel again. When would he ever learn his lesson? Sex was sex and love was beyond his reach so he might as well stop setting himself up for these disappointments. He should have known he couldn't keep her for long. What did he really have to offer her after all?  
  
Summer was right, they did need some time apart, because the way his chest hurt right now told him he had become way too involved with the girl, too dependent upon her for his happiness. Being alone would be a good antidote, a reminder of how life really was. He should actually be grateful to her for having the common sense that he obviously lacked.  
  
He suddenly realized that the TV remote was still clutched in his hand. As a matter of fact his knuckles were white and he had a death grip on the device. He pointed it at the television and pressed the 'on' button, followed by 'mute' then shuffled over to his bed and threw himself down. He stared at the silent, flickering images on the screen blindly for hours until his aching eyes finally drifted closed and he slept.

* * *

"What the hell happened to you? Are you sick?" Seth asked, speaking through a mouthful of bagel, as he looked up and caught sight of Ryan the next morning. "Have you been...?" He made a tipping the bottle gesture with his hand. "Cause you look like you're either really hung-over or got hit by a virus."  
  
"I'm fine," Ryan muttered as he crossed the kitchen to the coffeemaker and pulled a mug from the cupboard.  
  
Seth continued to look at him expectantly.  
  
"I didn't sleep very well," Ryan continued, catching Seth's questioning look.  
  
Seth lowered his brows and his face shifted into skeptical mode. He really was mastering the art of silent communication.  
  
"That's all." Ryan assured him with a frown. He sat down at the table, picking up a random section of newspaper and hiding behind it so he wouldn't have to look at any more of Seth's grimaces.  
  
"You read the Style section now, Ryan?" Seth asked blandly. "Very interesting. Summer's really got you jumping through her hoops doesn't she, bro?"  
  
Ryan put down the paper, got up and poured his almost full cup of coffee in the sink. "I'm riding my bike today. I'll see you later," he said as he stalked from the kitchen.  
  
"Oo-kay. What was THAT all about?" Seth wondered aloud just as Kirsten wandered into the room.  
  
"What was what?" she asked blearily, reaching for the carafe of coffee and an empty mug.  
  
"Something's up with Ryan."  
  
"Should I be worried?" she asked, sipping the black beverage and not looking too interested yet. She was used to Seth being overdramatic about little things.  
  
"Don't know yet. I'll have to ferret it out of him then I'll get back to you," Seth informed her. He rose, stuffing the last of his bagel into his mouth, and shouldered his backpack. "I think it has something to do with Summer since she evidently isn't giving us a ride today." He added, "So, I'm going to need you to drive me."  
  
"Okay," she sighed, "Give me half an hour and I'll be ready to go."  
  
"Mother, school starts in twenty minutes," Seth reminded gently.  
  
Kirsten's eyes flew open and she looked at the kitchen clock. "Oh, crap!" She set her cup down on the counter and practically ran from the kitchen.  
  
Seth called after her, "If you and the pater would help me and Ryan buy a vehicle, we wouldn't have to go through this, you know."  
  
He took his backpack off his shoulder and unzipped it, making sure the history paper he'd written the night before was inside. He smoothed the somewhat crumpled paper and put it the folder where it belonged, and he thought about Ryan. Uncommunicative, silent, withdrawn, pissed off, back- to-square-one Ryan.  
  
Seth sighed. There was definitely trouble in paradise. He hadn't seen his friend so upset since last spring. There was a time not too long ago when that evil imp inside of Seth would've been glad to see Ryan and Summer's relationship implode, but no more. For the first time, Seth realized that he really had moved on, because all he felt now was sympathy for Ryan's pain.  
  
Well, if he couldn't get Ryan to spill, he was sure he could work his skills on Summer. There was nothing that girl loved more than talking about herself and her problems. Some people were so self-centered like that. He would catch her before class began this morning and find out the 411. He glanced at the stairs. That is if his mom could manage to get him to school on time.  
  
To be continued....  
  
Thanks to those who caught my embarrassing faux pas when I posted this the first time. I thought I had removed all the pieces in progress and notes to self. Thanks for letting me know so I could pull the story and re-post it. That's what I get for not checking the preview closely enough. 


	2. 2

"The Words" – chapter 2  
  
Neverending thanks to those who reviewed chapter one and especially to those who left another review after I had to pull the story and re-post it. Big oops on that. Guess I'll preview more carefully this time. I also got some nice feedback that let me know my plan to convert EVERYONE to believing in Ryan/Summer is slowly working. (rubs hands together in fiendish glee)  
  
In the teaser line for this fic I mentioned two of the prequels but don't think I plugged "Seth Gets Lucky." It helps to read that one too to understand how Seth slowly moved from being angry and jealous to finally accepting R/S's relationship.  
  
The story of the Commitmentphobe Couple continues....

* * *

"Hey, Summer, what's up?" Seth greeted the dark haired girl who was standing in the cafeteria line comparing the relative merits of apples.  
  
She ignored him, picking up one of the pieces of fruit and examining it. Finding a dime- sized bruise, she replaced the apple in the bowl and picked up a different one.  
  
"You know you're not supposed to handle the food, right?" Seth enquired.  
  
"Does this look mealy to you?" she asked, rotating the second apple in her hand. "I hate when you bite in and they're mealy."  
  
Seth took the apple from her hand and bit into it. "Crisp. Definitely juicy with just the right amount of tartness," he reviewed, as he placed the fruit on her tray.  
  
"Ew, gross, Cohen." Summer wrinkled her nose but kept the apple and moved along to the checkout. Seth followed behind.  
  
As the cafeteria worker swiped Summer's card, Seth broached the subject again. "So, what's new in your life?"  
  
"Nothing." Summer shrugged, put the lunch card back in her purse and picked up her tray.  
  
"No new and exciting developments in the saga of Summer?" Seth pried.  
  
"Not really. Not unless you want to hear about my manicure and the new pair of shoes I bought the other day." Summer turned her back on him and began to walk away. Seth quickly paid for his lunch and hurried after her.  
  
"So there's no trouble in paradise?" he asked, "Because I was getting a definite storm warning vibe from Ryan this morning."  
  
"It's no big deal," Summer assured him. "We're just taking a break for a while."  
  
"You broke up?!" Seth accidentally jabbed her in the back with his tray he was following so closely.  
  
"No," she snapped. "It's just a little ... hiatus. Ryan agreed," she added quickly.  
  
"Oh really? He was cool with it?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"But it was your idea," Seth confirmed.  
  
"Yes." She continued to thread her way through the tables.  
  
"Can I ask why?" he pressed.  
  
"No!" Summer cut him off. She stopped moving and turned to face him. "Look, I'm going to sit with Amber and Whitney so unless you want to spend your lunch time listening to Amber complain about Chad or Whitney bitch because she didn't get to go to France last summer...." She looked at Seth pointedly.  
  
"Sure. I get it," he said, nodding. "Girl time."  
  
"That's right."  
  
"You miss Marissa," he concluded.  
  
Summer simply shrugged once more.  
  
"Well, if there's ever anything you need to talk about...." He trailed off since Summer had already resumed her course toward the pretty girls' table.  
  
Seth stood, holding his tray and wishing for the hundredth time that he shared the same lunch hour as Ryan. As the tables on the patio filled up with laughing, chattering teens, Seth realized that he was alone again, just like every year of his life up until last school year. He missed Anna and mentally promised to send her an email. Hell, he even missed Luke and wondered if the guy had found a pack of jock friends to hang with at his new school. And surprisingly enough, Seth found that he kind of missed Marissa too. It's not like they'd ever really talked but she had been part of the landscape for his whole life and he noted the lack of her in it. He hoped the rehab was working and she could return home by second semester.  
  
By now most of the tables were taken. Seth saw a pod of freshmen computer geeks huddled over a manual of some kind and arguing fiercely. He wondered where kids like these had been when he was a freshman. He would have appreciated their friendship then, but now he felt he'd grown a little past that gawky, nerdy phase.  
  
But there was an empty chair at their table so he sighed and headed over. Perhaps it was time he struck up some new friendships.

* * *

Chad Munson brayed his harsh laughter at yet another of Mike Flynn's jokes. Ryan sighed and poked his spaghetti with a fork, trying to remember why he was sitting with these guys. Oh right. They were his teammates.  
  
Ryan loved playing soccer, and he could even admit to liking the camaraderie of being part of a team, but he pretty much despised the guys as individuals. Besides, today he sort of hated the world in general and the last thing he needed was to be sitting here, faking a mask of interest whenever someone talked to him.  
  
"Atwood here knows what I'm talkin' about," Flynn was saying. "Dontchya?"  
  
"Mm." Ryan smiled and made an agreeable grunt. He didn't know what he was agreeing to since he hadn't listened to a word of the guy's monologue, but it was probably something about sex – it usually was.  
  
"Come on. Spill." Munson turned to Ryan. "That chick is HOT! What's she really like in the sack?"  
  
Ryan abruptly realized they were talking about Summer and he felt his insides do a quick freeze. He couldn't stand these guys verbally pawing over his girlfriend when he and Summer were together let alone now that they were split up. For the first time in a long time a wave of that murderous urge to hit ... and hit ... and HIT swept over him. He glanced at Munson's square jawed perfection and pictured his nose shattering in a bright burst of red as Ryan's fist nailed it.  
  
He shrugged, the half smile never leaving his lips and never reaching his eyes.  
  
"Give it up," Carl Bayles chimed in. "You guys should know by now that Atwood's never going to give you the goods. Jesus, Munson, isn't your own woman enough to keep you occupied? If I had me some Amber, you can bet I wouldn't be...."  
  
And they were off, rattling on about their sex lives and sports and trying to one-up each other about everything they did or had; cars, motorcycles, boats, women, physical prowess. The list was endless and Ryan quickly tuned it out again. He excused himself from the table after another minute, taking his still untouched tray of food up to the racks. He walked across the quad, looking for a quiet bench in the sun where he could relax for the rest of his lunch period.  
  
Ryan wished Seth shared his schedule so he could have somebody real to hang with. Then he was suddenly glad that he didn't. Sooner or later Seth was going to want the details about what had happened with Summer, but Ryan decided later was better. He wasn't ready to talk about it yet. Actually, he didn't know if he ever wanted to dissect his tangled feelings where Summer was concerned – especially not with Seth.  
  
Ryan found an empty bench and settled on it, opening a textbook and resting it on his leg, but staring off into the distance. Inevitably his thoughts drifted to Summer. It was hard for him to remember the time when Marissa was his magnetic north, because now all things came back to Summer.  
  
He wasn't quite sure when his feelings for her had moved from the easy friendship and fierce sexuality of the early days to something deeper. But yes, he did know. It happened in Chino, when she walked up and down countless streets with him helping search for his mom. She wore those ridiculous high heeled shoes which must have hurt like hell but she never once complained, never begged to go home or told him he was crazy for trying to find Dawn. She was relentless and relentlessly cheerful and he fell in love with her that day.  
  
He had actually said it. That night in Mr. Murchison's funky old bedroom, he had told Summer he loved her. Hadn't meant to say it but he was a little buzzed on pain medication and it just came out. She didn't answer and he knew right away he'd made a mistake. After that he pushed those syrupy, dangerous feelings deep down inside him and resumed their regularly scheduled light and breezy relationship.  
  
It had seemed like enough ... until recently. Lately he ached when he wasn't with her and ached even more when she was in his arms. He wanted something else, something more, something different, but he was afraid to name it and definitely afraid to express it to Summer.  
  
Sitting on his quiet bench, Ryan tried to relax and just enjoy the simple pleasure of the sun on his face and to force his mind into blankness. His stomach rumbled and he wished he'd eaten his spaghetti. He fished around in his backpack until he found a power bar to nibble on. The pages of the textbook on his lap fluttered in the breeze, reminding him of the quiz for which he really ought to be studying. Ryan opened the book to the right chapter and began reviewing the material. He was able to push Summer out of his mind for almost two whole pages.

* * *

Summer saw the familiar shaggy, dirty blond head bobbing along in the crowd of students walking toward her down the hall. Her heart began to pound. She panicked and ducked into the next classroom she passed, waiting for him to go by. As she pressed her back flat against the door and peered out into the hallway, Summer realized how ludicrous this was. She was actually hiding from Ryan. Hiding!  
  
She glanced behind her and noted that she was in one of the science labs and that she was attracting some curious looks from the kids who belonged in the class. A couple of students brushed past her on their way in and Summer scowled at them for blocking her view. She took another peek into the hall and saw the back of Ryan's head still moving along in the middle of the stream of teenagers. Summer went out into the hall and continued on her way to class.  
  
She hated herself for hiding. Hiding! Like some middle school freak with self esteem issues. But she simply couldn't face Ryan. She didn't know what to say, how to act with him now. How was it possible to go from the intimacy of having someone literally inside you, molded to every part of your body, to treating him like a casual acquaintance? Of course she had done this in the past during her wild, party girl phase, but it was different with those random guys she could barely remember because of being too drunk or high. This was Ryan. Ryan, who she had spent almost every day of the last five months with. Ryan, who she had talked and laughed with; who had held her when she cried about her mom; who had made love to her in countless ways from gentle and sweet to passionate and rough. And now she couldn't even bring herself to say 'hi' to him in the hallway? It was insane.  
  
Summer entered her World History class and slipped into her seat, unzipped her backpack and took out her text. It occurred to her how funny it was that Seth had automatically assumed she was missing Marissa when she sat with Amber and Whitney at lunch. It was actually Anna that Summer wanted to talk to. There wasn't a single girl at this school she felt comfortable sharing her Ryan problems with, and she certainly couldn't talk about them with Seth or, god forbid, her stepmom.  
  
She really, really missed Anna's calm, common sense approach to life and wished that their budding friendship hadn't taken a back seat to their catfight over Cohen. Now Anna was gone back to Pittsburgh and their relationship had never gotten deep enough to where Summer could feel comfortable calling or emailing to discuss her romantic life. Who did that leave to give her advice and listen to her troubles? Even if Marissa were here, Summer could hardly have discussed Ryan with her. God, Summer wished she had a real mom – a mom like Kirsten Cohen.  
  
All right. All this moaning and whining was getting her nowhere. Summer clicked her pen rapidly in and out a half dozen times then opened her spiral notebook to take notes on what Mr. Abernathy was saying. She would make a deal with herself and then she would put the whole Ryan thing out of her head and start concentrating because she really wasn't doing so well in this class.  
  
The deal was this; if Ryan called her or contacted her by the end of today - by twelve midnight this day, then it would be her sign. She would know that he cared and that there was still hope. But if he didn't call then she would be proved right. She would know for sure that she felt way more for him than he did for her and that it had been totally the right thing to dump him before he had a chance to dump her. What did Seth call it in that stupid war game he liked to play? ... A preemptive strike.  
  
"It was at this time that the Germans allied with Italy...." Mr. Abernathy droned on and Summer clicked her pen a couple more times before she began to write.  
  
Summer took notes. She learned about Hitler and Mussolini, and she didn't think about Ryan Atwood for the next ... ten whole minutes.

* * *

"Ryan." Kirsten's voice intercepted him as he walked through the kitchen, grabbing a soda from the fridge, on his way to the pool house. Ryan followed her voice to the dining room where she was seated at the table, papers strewn across the surface and her laptop front and center. "Hi," she added, bestowing a warm smile on him.  
  
"Uh, hi," he replied. "You're home early."  
  
"Well, I'm not really home since I brought half of the office with me." She gestured at the work in front of her. "I won't be done with this for another couple of hours at least."  
  
"What are you working on?"  
  
"The new development at Rock Ridge. Remember, I showed you the blueprints for the model home the other day?"  
  
"Oh yeah. I like that one," Ryan said. "Especially the center courtyard."  
  
"Me too." Kirsten smiled again. "So, now I have to coordinate the...." she trailed off. "You know what? Somehow you always get me talking about work. I actually wanted to talk about you."  
  
"Me?" He was taken aback.  
  
"Yeah." She hesitated. "Sometimes I feel like you and I don't discuss anything but ... surface things. And ... I don't think that's right."  
  
Surface talk was just fine with Ryan, but he couldn't tell her that. She looked so open and hopeful when she asked, "So, how are things? Are you and Summer getting along all right?"  
  
"Um. Fine," he automatically replied, but then amended it to the truth. "I mean ... actually, we sort of, uh, broke up yesterday."  
  
"Oh, no." Kirsten's forehead wrinkled in concern. "I'm so sorry. If you don't mind my asking, what happened? I mean, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to but sometimes it helps."  
  
Ryan shrugged.  
  
"Please. Sit down," Kirsten urged, gesturing to one of the chairs. "Tell me about it."  
  
He didn't take the seat but set his backpack on it, fingering the shoulder strap as he talked. "She just said she wanted to be, uh, alone for a while."  
  
He nodded his head as he continued to examine the unraveling stitching on the backpack, "And that's probably a good thing ... I guess. We should ... take some time. Don't you think?" he asked, stealing a quick glance up at Kirsten.  
  
She hesitated. "Well.... Taking stock of where you're at ... emotionally ... is always good," she replied carefully then added, "Do you know? I mean, do you know what you feel for Summer?" She asked it as if it were a question she'd been mulling over a long time.  
  
Ryan didn't answer right away.  
  
A red flush crept up from Kirsten's neck as she continued. "I know that you two have had a relationship ... a sexual relationship ... for several months now." She pressed on, her voice sounding as awkward and pained as Ryan felt listening to her. "But I've never heard you say that you ... well, of course I wouldn't because I'm probably not around when you say it, but I still feel like its pretty unclear how you feel about Summer and that as a mother or guardian or whatever, I should know what you're thinking and what you're going through, but I don't," she blurted out in a rush. "And I feel really bad about that, like I should be more available or ask how you're doing more often...."  
  
Ryan half held up his hand to stop her flow of words. "You don't have to...." His face tensed as he searched for just the right words to reassure Kirsten. "I know that you're there if ... if I have a problem. But I don't. Not really. There's just some stuff I need to figure out." He gave her an encouraging smile. He hated it when he could tell Kirsten felt she was doing a bad job of mothering him. He wished he could tell her that she didn't need to do that. It wasn't necessary.  
  
Kirsten returned his smile and drew a shaky breath. "I know, I'm not very good at this," she admitted. "But, let me say one more thing and then you can go, okay?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
"When I first met Summer, I wasn't exactly impressed with her. She seemed spoiled and self-centered, and I wondered what Seth thought was so special about her. Then when she came between you boys I thought my impression was confirmed, that she was the kind of girl who loved stirring up drama." Kirsten's voice was calm but her hands in her lap, moving restlessly against each other, betrayed her anxiety. "But over the past months, as she's been around basically all the time, I've talked with her and gotten to know her better, and I think ... that there's a lot of good in Summer. There has to be for both of you boys to have fallen in love with her."  
  
Ryan started at the word 'love.' His first impulse was to deny it.  
  
"So, I guess I'm just saying that if you care for her and you haven't let her know, maybe now would be a good time." Kirsten raised her brows and smiled gently at him.  
  
"Maybe," he mumbled, nodding his head, but he had no intention of following her advice. He wouldn't say, "I love you," to Summer again unless he heard it from her first.  
  
"It's only my humble opinion." She continued to smile at him and finally relieved the awkwardness by changing the subject. "What do you want me to order for dinner?"

* * *

Ryan had managed to sidestep Seth's barrage of questions that afternoon and evening by the simple, declarative, "I don't want to talk about it," repeated loudly and often.  
  
He had eventually added, "I'll let you know when I'm ready to talk about it," for some variety. But mostly he had distracted Seth from his goal of meddling by getting him involved in a long bout of Playstation, during which Ryan kicked his ass ten ways from Sunday.  
  
"Seriously," Seth tried one last time before Ryan went out to the pool house for the night. "When you're ready ... I'm here for you, man." He patted him on the shoulder and Ryan was suddenly, unaccountably, deeply touched by the sentiment. He felt tears spring to his eyes and had to quickly blink them away.  
  
"Thanks," he answered gruffly. God, he hated when that shit happened.  
  
Once in the pool house, however, Ryan found himself sleepless and restless. He gazed at the TV as he had the night before, but it didn't lull him into passivity. Finally, he jumped up, put on his swim trunks and went out to the pool to swim laps. He had a strong sense of deja vu as he dove in and began to stroke through the water. This was just like last spring when he had first gotten Summer into his system and tried to work her out of it through physical exorcism.  
  
He swam to the end of the pool, turned and swam back. As he sank into the rhythm of the motion, he began to feel his tension loosen. After a while there was only the movement of his body and the feel of the water on his skin and the cool air when it touched him. His mind began to calm. He swam until his muscles ached and his lungs were close to bursting. Ryan knew that his body would ache even more tomorrow, but it felt good – really good. He pulled himself, dripping, from the pool, toweled off and went back in the pool house. He thought he could finally sleep.

* * *

Summer sat in her room watching late night TV and stripping the polish from her toenails in preparation for applying Angelblush Rose, which she had purchased at the salon when she was there for her manicure.  
  
The house was quiet and empty. That was nothing new. Summer punched the button on the TV to turn it up even louder. She couldn't stand the quiet tonight. She would even have welcomed talking to her stepmom or her father at this point. She was that sick of being alone.  
  
On a normal evening she would have called Ryan if she was having trouble sleeping. She would have told him about the show she was watching and maybe he would have told her about the American Chopper episode he had watched earlier that evening, and eventually they would have said 'goodnight' and gone to sleep.  
  
But there was no Ryan to call now.  
  
And Ryan didn't appear to be calling her.  
  
Summer looked at the clock again. Another minute had passed. It was now four minutes until her midnight deadline. Four minutes closer to admitting the truth that Ryan really didn't care that much about her – was probably even glad she had broken up with him since it saved him the trouble of doing it. He was too nice a guy that was the trouble. He had probably been sick of her for months now but was just too kind to end it. Look at how long he had put up with Marissa's shit.  
  
Part of Summer knew she was being a teensy bit illogical but most of her couldn't see past the pain of her disappointment in Ryan for not saving the day with a phone call. It would be so easy.  
  
"Ring, damn it!" she hissed at the phone. "Call me, Ryan, please," she begged, broadcasting mental messages at him. "Call! Tell me you ... miss me. Tell me anything. Just talk to me." But her phone stayed silent.  
  
She checked it for the tenth time to make sure it was still fully charged. It still was.  
  
It was two minutes until midnight.  
  
Summer looked at the bottle of nail polish and set it aside. She wasn't interested in seeing how her toenails looked painted with Angelblush Rose. She wasn't interested in anything except hearing her stupid cell phone ring and listening to Ryan's husky voice coming through the receiver, telling her things about his day, telling her that things would be okay.  
  
Summer forced herself not to look at the clock. She watched an infomercial about a hair restorer and wondered if it really worked. She would have to ask her dad. As a plastic surgeon, he would know.  
  
She broke her promise not to watch the clock and glanced at it quickly from the corner of her eye.  
  
It was a minute after twelve.  
  
Summer felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach. Somehow she had managed to convince herself that miraculously, against all odds she would get her phone call, her happy ending. She should have known better.  
  
The tension of the past few hours was suddenly too much. Tears welled in Summer's eyes and spilled down her cheeks and for once she didn't try to brush them away or pretend she wasn't hurting. There was no one to see anyway. Why bother.  
  
She wept, big, choking sobs that shook her body. She gasped for air and cried some more and thought about how ugly, real crying was. Your eyes were swollen and your face was red and snot flowed freely from your nose and you sounded like a dog hacking up a bit of food. Thinking about how disgusting she must look only made her cry harder. Summer threw herself face down on her bed, not worrying about the mascara smearing into the white smoothness of her pillowcase.  
  
She cried and cried, waiting for the tears to relieve some of the ache in her heart. But it didn't work that way. When she finally subsided into sniffles twenty minutes later, she still felt like someone had taken her heart and ground it into the dirt underneath their boot. And for the flicker of an instant, Summer thought it would be easy to learn to hate Ryan for making her feel this way.  
  
To be continued.... 


	3. 3

"The Words" – chapter 3  
  
The stubbornness continues and misunderstandings ensue.  
  
P.S. I love you. You readers are the greatest and I thrive on your feedback. Thanks.

* * *

Ryan woke the next morning and looked at the cell phone on the table by his bed. He willed it to ring. That was how Saturdays when he had a shift at the Lighthouse always began. Summer called and said 'hello' and told him what a pain in the ass it was that he had to work and she would adopt a long-suffering tone as she moaned that she would have to find SOMETHING to occupy her today; shopping, tanning, maybe even a trip to the spa with her stepmom – she was that bored.  
  
He would remind her that she could probably get a waitress job at the Lighthouse if she really wanted something to do. Or that she could volunteer to teach underprivileged kids to read or do crafts with the residents of a retirement home. And she would remind him that there weren't any underprivileged kids in Newport and that all the old people retired to Palm Springs. He would laugh and tell her to quit bitching and enjoy her day, and she would tell him in a sarcastic voice to have a great day at work, but he would know she really meant it. Then he'd say, 'See you after.' And she'd say, 'Call me on your break.' And they'd both hang up.  
  
He stared at the phone ... but it didn't ring.  
  
Ryan threw back the covers, climbed out of bed and got ready for work.

* * *

The lunch crowd had died down by mid afternoon. On break, Ryan went up to the bar and asked Jimmy for a soda.  
  
"How's Marissa," he asked as Jimmy handed him a tall glass of Sprite.  
  
"Better. I went up to see her last weekend, and I think she seems to be doing better." He paused then sighed. "I guess." He looked at Ryan. "You know, it's so hard to tell. I thought she was all right before and then...."  
  
Ryan nodded, still feeling guilty for Marissa's relapse even though he knew that it wasn't completely his fault. There was the Oliver disaster and the Luke and Julie debacle to factor in to her meltdown. But having Ryan choose her best friend over her certainly hadn't helped.  
  
"How about you?" Ryan changed the subject, his tone light as he teased Jimmy, "Hailey still keeping you busy?"  
  
"She is. I can't keep up with that girl." Jimmy lowered his voice confidingly. "She really makes me feel my age. About the time I'm ready to turn in for the night, she wants to go out clubbing. If I drop dead of a heart attack, you'll know why." As if abruptly realizing that sharing the issues in his love life with Ryan wasn't exactly appropriate, Jimmy asked, "So how's the soccer team this year?"  
  
"About the same as last year," Ryan told him with a smile. "Barely mediocre."  
  
"Well, as long as you're having fun out there. That's what it's all about," Jimmy said. "I'll have to try to make it to a match."  
  
Ryan nodded and took a drink of his soda. He then sat quietly, toying with his glass, staring at the fizzing liquid and letting the quiet hum of voices in the bar wash over him.  
  
"Is there something bothering you?" Jimmy asked after a bit. "You're pretty quiet today, even for you."  
  
"No."  
  
"Trouble with Summer?" he guessed.  
  
Ryan shrugged. "No trouble. We're just ... taking a break for a while."  
  
"Ah," Jimmy nodded in understanding. "The temporary hiatus."  
  
Ryan looked up sharply. "It's not the same as breaking up," he found himself insisting, sounding like a sulky child.  
  
"Of course." Jimmy washed and dried highball glasses as he talked. "But it hurts just as much, doesn't it?"  
  
Ryan refused to answer and took another sip of his drink.  
  
"I don't know if my advice counts for much considering my track record with women but, don't give up on Summer even if she's pushing you away," Jimmy counseled. "Don't assume that it's what she really means."  
  
"You're telling me to stalk her?" Ryan asked, a tinge of bitter amusement in his voice.  
  
"No. Of course not!" Jimmy backpedaled. "But press her for the truth. And, for God's sake, let her know how you feel. That's the big mistake I made with ... one of my old girlfriends. I assumed she knew how I felt. I never said anything and when I was finally ready to, it was too late."  
  
"Mm," Ryan made an assenting sound but he doubted he'd follow Jimmy's advice any more than he intended to follow Kirsten's. In his experience, sharing your feelings only made things worse. Summer had said she needed space, so he would take her at her word.  
  
"Hey," Seth said, coming up and seating himself on the bar stool next to Ryan. "What are we talking about?"  
  
"About how Jimmy and your dad are going to fire you if you come in late again," Ryan responded irritably. "Nikki and I had to handle the lunch rush on our own, man."  
  
"Sorry. I overslept."  
  
"I don't mind coming in early to do set up, but when you're supposed to be here by twelve and there's only one other server besides me...."  
  
"I know. I know. It won't happen again," Seth assured him.  
  
Ryan shot him a skeptical look.  
  
"Crap. Nikki's probably pissed at me too," Seth frowned.  
  
"Yeah. Pretty much."  
  
"Crap! I was going to ask her to go with us to that party tonight and now she probably won't go."  
  
"Us?" Ryan asked. "I'm not going to any parties."  
  
"Ryan, you have to! If I ask Nikki to go with me it sounds like I'm asking her on a date, but if I ask her to go with us it's just friends from work hanging out together. You're an integral part of the equation. You make it seem casual."  
  
"Look, if you want to ask Nikki out just do it. I don't want to be your prop and I don't want to go to this party." Ryan thought it was highly unlikely that lovely, golden-haired Nikki would go out on a date with Seth. She shut him down at every opportunity – but maybe that was just foreplay, sometimes it was hard to tell with couples.  
  
"Why don't you want to go?" Seth asked although it was clear he already knew the answer.  
  
"I don't even like Whitney. And all the guys from my team will be there. I hate those guys. YOU hate those guys."  
  
"Yeah, and I don't like Whitney either, but it's a party and a good excuse for me to take Nikki out without it seeming too obvious. Besides, won't Summer be there?"  
  
Ryan scowled at him.  
  
"Don't you want to see her? Come on, I know you do." Seth nudged his arm.  
  
"Not really."  
  
Just then Nikki entered the bar, a tray laden with dirty dishes balanced on one arm. She blew strands of her long blond hair from her face and frowned at the boys sitting on the bar stools. "A little help here! Were you guys planning on working any time soon? The dining room is getting busy again."  
  
"Coming," Ryan answered, hopping off his seat and going to take the tray from her.  
  
"Sorry about being late," Seth said. "I didn't mean to make you guys so much work."  
  
"Yeah? Well you did," Nikki answered, as Seth trailed behind her into the other room. "Table six needs drinks. Table four's orders are up. Seven is deciding about desert," she snapped. "And don't think I'm sharing any of their tips with you."  
  
"No. Of course not," Seth said then segued smoothly into his proposal. "Actually, Nikki, I really want to make it up to you for this afternoon. Why don't you let me and Ryan take you out this evening? There's this fantastic party...."

* * *

It was 2:10 in the afternoon when the phone rang and startled Summer out of a sound sleep. She seized it from her nightstand.  
  
"Hello?" she said muzzily, wiping a hand across her bleary eyes.  
  
"Girl, where the hell are you?" Amber's shrill voice pierced her ear. "Were you still sleeping?"  
  
"No. I mean, yeah. Sort of."  
  
"Did you forget we had and appointment at Fortuna's?"  
  
Hearing it Summer remembered that she had promised to meet Amber for a manicure, facial, hair styling and lunch afterward at a new café.  
  
"Oh, right. I'm sorry."  
  
"Well, get your ass over here! I need to talk to you about Chad."  
  
"I don't think I can."  
  
"What do you mean, you can't? I NEED you. I'm going to give Chad an ultimatum tonight and I need you to tell me how it sounds."  
  
"Tonight?" Summer stalled for time.  
  
"Yeah, at Whitney's party. You did remember Whitney's birthday bash?"  
  
"Oh. Of course. Um, I don't think I can go to that either," she mumbled.  
  
"What's the matter with you?" Amber asked crossly. "Are you sick or something? You sound like crap."  
  
"No. Nothing's wrong. I just don't...." Summer was humiliated when her voice broke. She gulped back a sob, surprised after last night that she had any tears left to spill. The last thing she wanted to do was lose it on the phone with Amber of all people so she shut her lips tight.  
  
"Something IS wrong!" Amber finally figured out. "What happened? Is it Ryan?"  
  
"No. ... Yes. We just decided to take a break is all and I'm a little ... upset," her voice wavered.  
  
"He broke up with you!" Amber gasped. "When did this happen? Why didn't you tell me?"  
  
"Day before yesterday," Summer answered, "and we're not broken up, just taking a break."  
  
"Hah!" she burst out. "That's what they tell you when they want to see another girl and not be held responsible for it. Later he can always say 'But we were taking a break. I wasn't with you so I wasn't cheating on you.'"  
  
Summer didn't bother to explain that she was the one who had chosen to spend time apart. "Well, anyway, I don't feel much like...."  
  
"Oh no, sweetie! That's why you definitely need to get your butt over here and have a full treatment; massage, hair and nails, facial, everything. You're going to go to that party and look gorgeous and make him feel like the shit that he is for giving you up."  
  
Summer sniffed. Being fussed over and pampered did sound like a better way to spend the day than lying around listening to suicide-inducing emo and watching Animal Planet with the sound muted.  
  
"Okay," she said. "I'll be there in twenty."

* * *

Ryan had seen Summer dressed to impress more times than he could count. Living in Newport where the social whirl never ended, she often wore designer gowns and sparkling jewels to the events they attended. He had kind of gotten used to it. But seeing her now, when she was unattainable, he was struck anew by her beauty.  
  
She was dressed in a simple white halter top and a blue skirt. The neckline of the halter showed off the rounded swell of lightly tanned cleavage and the skirt a long expanse of naked thigh. He saw her across the room talking and laughing with friends, and he felt such a rush of desire he wanted to walk over, grab her arm, toss her up against the wall and take her right there in the middle of the party.  
  
It had been two whole days since they agreed to take a break and he had neither seen nor talked to Summer. He missed hearing her voice. He missed touching her skin. He simply missed HER. If it was this bad after only two days without her, how was it going to be after four days or a week or a month? He didn't know if he could take it.  
  
He sipped his beer and pretended to listen to Seth and Nikki banter, but from the corners of his eyes he kept stealing glances over at Summer. He couldn't help it. She looked really happy, more carefree and bubbly than he had seen her in weeks. Just as he thought it, she threw her head back, laughing at something Chad had said. Whitney came up to the group and Summer gave her a hug and an air kiss, obviously wishing her a happy birthday. Then Eric said something and the whole group burst out laughing again. Ryan wanted to punch all of their carefree, joyous faces.  
  
Summer was beautiful and happy and it was quite clear that she didn't miss Ryan in the least. He could feel himself scowling and tried to shake it off.  
  
"Hey," he heard a voice at his left and felt a soft touch on his forearm.  
  
He turned and saw a freshman girl he vaguely remembered seeing around school, Heather Something. She was petite and fine boned with wide eyes, rather like Marissa if she were two feet shorter. The girl nervously pushed the perfectly straight, light brown hair, which fell practically to her waist, out of her eyes and smiled shyly at him. "I'm Heather," she clarified.  
  
"Hi," he answered politely. "Ryan."  
  
"Yeah. I know," she answered quickly then blushed. She waved a hand distractedly and added in an embarrassed rush of words, "I mean, I've wanted to talk to you for a long time, but I knew you were seeing, um, Summer and it didn't seem.... But now I heard you guys broke up so...."  
  
Ryan was amazed. They were separated for two days and the whole school knew about it? The news hadn't spread from him, so clearly Summer had made some kind of general announcement that burned through the grapevine like a wildfire. Nothing like making it official.  
  
"Oh," he answered the freshman.  
  
"So, I wondered if maybe you wanted to...." she gestured toward several people who were actually dancing to the pulsing techno beat which was giving Ryan a headache, "Or else we could just take a walk on the beach ... if you wanted to talk or something."  
  
By the final words, her voice was so soft Ryan had to incline his head to hear her  
  
"Oh," he said again. "I, uh...." He didn't know what to answer. He felt sorry for the girl. It had obviously cost her a lot to approach him and ask for his attention, and he had to admit it was flattering to realize that she had been crushing on him from afar, but there was no way he wanted to encourage Heather or to make the effort of conversation. "I'm not.... I...." He shook his head helplessly.  
  
Heather nodded, her face falling in disappointment. "Oh, sure. I understand," she answered quickly. "That's.... Of course," she stammered and backed a step away from him. Unfortunately, she tripped on the edge of a throw rug and stumbled. Ryan reached out a hand to take her arm and steady her. The poor girl blushed bright pink as she regained her balance.  
  
He smiled, trying to alleviate her painful nervousness. "You okay?"  
  
She nodded vigorously. "Yes. I just feel like...." she drew a deep breath and let it out shakily. "I'm such an idiot!" Tears glistened in her eyes and Ryan ached for her.  
  
"Hey. It's okay," he assured her with another warm smile. "I'm flattered you asked, but right now...."  
  
But it was too late. Already a single tear and then another spilled down her cheek. "God. I'm so embarrassed," she moaned. She tilted her head so that her long hair shielded her tear stained face from prying eyes.  
  
"Um, do you need to get out of here?" Ryan asked helpfully. "We could...." he gestured at the door leading out to the patio.  
  
She nodded mutely and he gently took her elbow again and led her from the room.

* * *

(Simultaneously)  
  
Summer's face ached from smiling. She wondered if it were possible to have your face freeze into that position like the Joker's in that old Batman movie simply from smiling too much. She leaned in toward Chad as if to catch whatever lame joke he was telling now and then burst into a gale of laughter at the appropriate time without catching one word of what he had said. But her eyes darted sideways to catch another glimpse of Ryan, Seth and some blonde girl, who were standing together and talking on the other side of the room.  
  
Ryan looked good tonight. Really good. Funny thing was, he wasn't wearing anything special, just jeans and a long sleeved T with a dark blue, short- sleeved shirt thrown over the top. It wasn't even one of the newer shirts she had bought him the last time she dragged him to the mall. It was a shirt she knew from examining up close and personal had a frayed collar and two missing buttons. And she knew specifically which buttons they were because she was the cause of them popping off. She remembered the afternoon she had attacked Ryan and ripped his shirt open and ... everything that had happened after. Summer felt herself flush with instant, spontaneous desire and a dull ache blossomed between her thighs.  
  
"Hey, girl." Summer jumped at Whitney's loud voice. The birthday girl, wearing a silver, glittery crown which proclaimed she was a 'Birthday Babe,' came up to the group. She embraced Summer and they pressed cheeks. "I heard all about it," she whispered, pulling back from the hug to bestow an empathetic frown. "He's a lowlife jerk and you're better off without him. " Whitney counseled, "I mean, sure he's kind of hot, but honestly, is he really the type of guy you want to...."  
  
"Happy Birthday," Summer exclaimed over-loudly, cutting across Whitney's diatribe. "Let's not talk about me and Ryan, okay? It's your birthday and tonight's all about YOU!" She smiled fiercely and gave Whitney a one-armed hug around the shoulders then she inevitably glanced toward Ryan again and froze for a second at what she saw.  
  
He was leaning down to listen to a girl, a delicate-blossom kind of a girl like Marissa, with big, expressive eyes and absolutely, shampoo-commercial- perfect hair. Summer watched Ryan grab the girl by the arm to steady her when she tripped. The bitch was obviously drunk and could hardly keep her balance.  
  
"Summer, are you even listening?" Amber snapped her fingers in front of her eyes and stepped into Summer's line of vision then leaned in close and hissed in her ear. "For god's sake stop looking at him! Don't be so needy!"  
  
"Wha...?" Summer was momentarily distracted but couldn't stop herself from stealing another peek at the tableau across the room. Seth was chattering animatedly complete with numerous hand gestures to that blond chick, and Ryan was leaning in even closer to the little fawnlike girl. Summer decided the ho' was probably named Bambi and had the IQ of a stick. He was taking her arm again and now he was walking with her toward the doors that led to the patio.  
  
Summer felt an internal gasp but she betrayed no sign of it. She felt her jaw muscles clench and release as she pictured herself running over the elfin waif with her jeep – numerous times. But she turned back to Whitney and Amber, Chad, Mike and Carl and she turned on her biggest wattage smile. As far as everyone at this party knew, she was having the best time of her life.  
  
Summer smiled and smiled and smiled.  
  
To be continued....


	4. 4

"The Words" – chapter 5  
  
Thanks, as always, for the feedback. It is much appreciated. This chapter is a short, bridging kind of thing, which flips through the days rather quickly but shows in two vignettes how Summer and Ryan expressed love for each other in their relationship without words.

* * *

On Sunday Summer followed her original agenda for Saturday. She lay around in her bed listening to crybaby rock and stuffing her face with chocolate chip ice cream and Cheetos ... until about five o'clock when she suddenly remembered she had a huge paper due tomorrow which she hadn't even begun. It was one of those ten page extravaganzas complete with footnotes and bibliography that was supposed to take you a whole quarter to work on but which nobody really began until a few days before the deadline. Summer abandoned her snack foods, flipped open her laptop and worked feverishly for the next few hours.  
  
At about seven that evening her phone rang and her heart pounded.  
  
"Hello?" she answered.  
  
"Hey, Summer." Seth's familiar lisp was both a disappointment and a relief to hear. She was glad he had called. If she had had to spend one more second in the solitude of her empty house, she thought she would break down crying again.  
  
"Hi," she said, feeling strangely shy. This was Seth, but because he was Ryan's best friend he was kind of like Ryan by extension. Besides, she knew he was going to try to get her talking about why she had broken up with Ryan and she didn't want to have that conversation with him.  
  
But Seth surprised her. "Are you working on that term paper for Snyder's class? Because I'm only like halfway through and I'm already running out of things to say. What did you write?"  
  
"Are you kidding?" Summer was on comfortable ground, glad to talk about mundane school stuff. "You're asking me? I started pulling analogies out of my ass after the third page. This is the stupidest report I've ever written. I'll be lucky to get a C minus."  
  
They lampooned their teacher and bickered companionably for the next twenty minutes and Seth never once mentioned The Breakup. Summer was grateful.  
  
"Well, I'd better get back to writing bullshit," Seth finally said.  
  
"Yeah, me too." Summer paused. "Thanks for calling."  
  
"Hey, just because you and Ryan aren't together right now is no reason you and I can't still hang, right?" Seth asked. "If we're really friends, then we should BE friends."  
  
Summer nodded then realized he couldn't see her and said, "Yeah," quietly.  
  
"All right," he replied. "So call me whenever you want to talk. I'll be around." He added, "Unless, of course, I'm out on a date with Nikki. Did you see her last night? She works at the restaurant with Ryan and me. Caliente, no?"  
  
"Si. Muy." Summer smiled at his irrepressible enthusiasm. "You go!"  
  
"Oh, I plan to," he answered with a chuckle. "As soon as she stops denying my remarkable charm and wit and agrees to go out with me."  
  
The opportunity was there and Summer couldn't resist the urge to dig for facts. "And how about Ryan?" she asked casually. "I noticed he had a date at the party too. Fast worker," she added blithely as if it meant nothing to her.  
  
"Date? Ryan?" Seth was astonished. "Oh! You don't mean that little girl, Heather? Are you crazy?"  
  
"They went off together," Summer pointed out.  
  
"That was nothing," he assured her. "The kid has a crush on him and she was embarrassed and crying and...." His voice changed as realization dawned on him. "You were jealous!"  
  
"Don't be ridiculous."  
  
"Yes, you were," he insisted. "Summer, how can you be so insanely paranoid? You know how Ryan feels about you, and you know that you guys would be together right now if you hadn't demanded your 'space.' Get a grip!"  
  
Summer wanted to tell him, 'No, I don't. I don't know how Ryan feels about me at all.' but instead she cut Seth short. "Look, I still have that paper to write and so do you, so.... Goodnight, Seth."  
  
"Summer...."  
  
She hung up before he could say anything more.  
  
She sat and looked at the phone in her hand for several moments. Seth swore that nothing had happened between Ryan and that little Bambi-girl. Well, that was promising, but Summer had to make sure for herself.  
  
On Monday she went to classes and between them she stalked Ryan trying to catch him talking to the lovesick freshman again. Summer hid behind bookcases and locker doors, ducked into classrooms and dodged behind other students to hide. She knew her behavior was bordering on psychotic but she couldn't stop herself. She glimpsed Ryan several times throughout the day and she saw Heather walking by with a pack of her girlfriends once, but she never actually saw them together. By the end of the day Summer decided she should probably check herself into the clinic Marissa was at, even if she didn't have a measurable addiction like alcohol or coke. She clearly needed some medical intervention to cure her obsession.  
  
On Tuesday as she drove to school Summer happened to catch the tail end of the old feminist anthem "I Am Woman" on the oldies radio station as she flipped past it. By the time she had belted out, "I am strong. (strong) I am invincible. (invincible) I am WOMAAAAN!" enough times, she decided to take back her life. With this newly empowered vision she called the local hospital and asked to be put back on the volunteer roster. No longer would she sit on her ass being useless and uselessly sorry for herself. She would bravely don the noble candy-striper uniform and head back into bedpan battle for the sake of the invalids. They were adding her into the schedule starting next week.  
  
On Wednesday after school she continued her plan of making her life fulfilling sans Ryan. She was WOMAN and didn't require a counterpart to make her complete. Summer hauled out her stepmom's old ski machine and worked her body until sweat was pouring from every pore. Then she headed to the beach where she swam vigorously then sunned herself for an hour, followed this up with a heart-healthy dinner and passed out from exhaustion by ten o'clock.  
  
On Thursday Summer was walking down the hallway at school and turned a corner. She almost walked into Ryan. There was no way to sidestep, ignore or pretend they hadn't seen each other. They both stared.  
  
"Hey," Ryan finally mumbled.  
  
"Hey," Summer answered faintly, feeling transfixed as some little forest animal by the bright blue beams of his eyes.  
  
The first bell rang and startled them from their mutual stare-fest.  
  
"I'm, uh, going to be...." His eyes shifted away from her, glancing down the hall then back again.  
  
"Late for class," Summer finished. "Yeah. Me too." She gestured to her books. "I, uh, have a test."  
  
Ryan nodded and started to walk past her but paused after only a step. He hesitated, looking at her, his brows knit in a frown. "Summer, I...." he began.  
  
"There you are!" Amber's voice cut the air like the whine of a chainsaw. She ran a smooth interception, walking between Ryan and Summer and taking her friend's arm while throwing a look of utter disdain at Ryan. "You've got to show me your notes quick before class!" She led Summer away.  
  
Summer didn't even get a chance to sneak a glance back to see if Ryan was still standing there as she walked away.  
  
Thursday night - actually early Friday morning, Summer had one of her wakeful spells. She didn't think they were classic anxiety attacks because she didn't have a racing pulse or shortness of breath, but sometimes she would wake up at two, three, four in the morning with a pervading sense of unease and extreme loneliness. She would lie wide awake in bed listening to the sounds an empty house makes and realize that if she dropped off the face of the earth there was no one who would miss her; not her father, who was too busy globe trotting with his new wife when he wasn't working outrageous hours at his practice; nor her mother, who couldn't even be bothered to keep in touch. There was no one but Summer to care about Summer and that was a damn scary feeling in the early hours of the morning.  
  
Before last week she would have called Ryan, and he would have made her feel better like he always did.  
  
The first time she had ever called him late at night, Summer had been embarrassed when his hoarse, sleepy voice croaked into the phone, "Yeah?"  
  
"Oh. Were you asleep?" she had stupidly asked.  
  
"Well, it's ... 3:15," he answered, and then his voice became more alert as he asked worriedly, "What's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing," she admitted sheepishly, "I just couldn't sleep."  
  
"Oh." There was a pause. "Something bothering you?"  
  
"Not really. I just ... I wish you were here," Summer answered truthfully then rushed on, "I'm sorry. I'm stupid. I shouldn't have called. Go back to sleep."  
  
"No. No, it's okay," he assured her. "We can talk."  
  
She had asked him to tell her one of his stories about growing up in Chino, and he did. It was something about Trey and a dare that involved spray- painting a highway bridge. But what he said didn't matter as much as his husky voice, which wrapped around her, painting word pictures. It was almost as good as lying in his arms.  
  
After that first conversation, Summer called a few other times when the insomnia and sadness flared up. Ryan never seemed impatient or annoyed to be wakened. Sometimes they tuned into the same TV channel and made fun of the infomercials or the late night phone sex commercials.  
  
Sometimes they had phone sex.  
  
And one time, when she was feeling especially low, Summer even admitted to him how much she hated being so alone in the world and ended up crying. He shushed her and murmured soothing things and told her that he would come over if she needed him to. But Summer knew they were already on thin ice with Sandy and Kirsten and she didn't want Ryan getting grounded so she pulled herself together and told him it was okay. He listened to her some more and teased her a little until she was smiling again and then they both finally said 'goodnight' and hung up and Summer felt a lot better.  
  
That was what she used to do when she was feeling shaky and scared at night. But tonight – or actually, today, Friday morning – there was no one to call, so Summer lay awake staring up at her canopy for an hour, willing herself to fall back to sleep. Then she gave up and got up for the day, making herself a huge breakfast and eating it out on the veranda as the sun slowly lightened the landscape around her.  
  
She finished some last minute homework and then got herself ready for school. She made a mental promise to call Marissa today and see how she was doing at Fairhaven. And although she missed sharing her night fears with Ryan, Summer was also proud of herself for handling it on her own. She remembered that she used to take care of herself like this all the time before Ryan came into her life.  
  
She felt good. She felt strong and capable. Of course, she also still felt really lonely.  
  
And she realized that she had now spent a full week without Ryan.

* * *

On Saturday afternoon Ryan had a soccer match. He congratulated himself on spending a full week without calling Summer and begging her to take him back in a needy, obsessive and totally inappropriate way. He was doing just fine on his own.  
  
He tried to play hard and concentrate on the game but couldn't help looking at the bleachers to the spot where Summer usually sat and feeling a sharp pang of disappointment not to see her there, even though he hadn't really expected to.  
  
At the beginning, she used to complain that soccer was the most boring sport invented by man and she didn't understand why he couldn't play basketball or something.  
  
He reminded her that he was kind of short for basketball and that she didn't have to come to the soccer matches if she didn't want to, it wouldn't bother him.  
  
"Well, of course I'm coming. That's what girlfriends do," she said.  
  
And she did. Even when the other 'soccer girlfriends' weren't there because it was too rainy or cold or there was some social event more pressing than sports, Summer always came. She sat in her spot, not always watching, sometimes doing her homework or her nails or chatting with Seth, but always there to see him.  
  
It never ceased to amaze Ryan that he had people in the stands now who were there for him; Sandy, Kirsten, Seth and Summer in some combination were present at every match.  
  
Sometimes afterward, when the game was especially grueling or he had overextended himself, Summer would amaze him further by coming to the pool house and offering a full body massage. The first time she did, he had said, "You don't have to do that," but after he found out how fantastic Summer was with her hands, he never turned down the offer again.  
  
She had him lay shirtless, face down on his bed as she straddled his body. Her light weight pressing against his hips and riding his ass, immediately turned him on and he wanted to flip over and start making out with her, but instead stayed still as she had positioned him. Summer started on his scalp, running her hands through his hair and gently kneading with her fingertips from the crown of his head down to his neck. She spent a good deal of time working the tight muscles that extended from neck through shoulders, pulling the tension out and away. Her stroking hands over his shoulders and upper back elicited a little moan of pleasure from Ryan.  
  
"Good, huh?" she asked.  
  
"Mm," was all he could manage in response.  
  
She put her weight into it as she massaged the muscle groups of his back, sometimes pressing painfully hard then easing off and releasing the tension through soft, slow strokes up and down his naked skin. Ryan didn't know whether he felt more horny or sleepy at this point. It was simultaneously erotic and completely relaxing.  
  
Then Summer began to work her way over his glutes and down to his thighs and he knew that horny had won. He could feel every touch through the thin fabric of his boxers as she kneaded and pressed. He started to roll over, ready to take her in his arms, but she smacked his butt hard.  
  
"Hold still. I'm not finished," she commanded. "Get your mind out of the gutter. This is sports therapy not foreplay, damn it!"  
  
He chuckled into his pillow and let her carry on with her work.  
  
She massaged all the way down each leg, her hands warm and soft yet hard as they manipulated the aching muscles of his thighs and calves. When she reached his feet, he almost dissolved into whimpering moans of pleasure again. She pressed and probed the arches and heels and manipulated each toe as he sighed in contentment. She ended by tickling the bottoms of his feet and he jerked away from her firm grip.  
  
Summer laughed and moved back up his body, straddling him again. Now she was working his biceps and giving his arms and hands the same treatment as their counterparts below. When she had finished down to the last finger and after she had smoothed her hands up and down his arms a few times, she draped herself full length on top of him and nuzzled her face into the side of his neck behind his right ear.  
  
She felt like a warm, Summer comforter covering his body, and Ryan felt completely peaceful and relaxed.  
  
"Thanks," he murmured. "That was unbelievable."  
  
"I know," she whispered and sucked his earlobe into her mouth. He squirmed as she peppered his neck and ear with kisses.  
  
"I feel like I should do the same for you," Ryan said.  
  
"You can pay me back some time. Just relax now."  
  
"That's hard when you keep tickling me," he complained peevishly.  
  
"You think THIS is tickling?" She nipped at the nape of his neck and said in a threatening growl, "I can show you tickling."  
  
"No, ma'am. I'll be good," he promised.  
  
She laughed and subsided against him. They lay in silence for a long time and never did end up making love since they both fell asleep until past the Cohens' imposed curfew and then Summer had to hurriedly kiss Ryan and leave.  
  
Ryan knelt in the grass to relace his shoe and took a cleansing breath as he pushed the soccer-related memories of Summer out of his mind and prepared to focus on today's match. He gave a quick wave to Sandy, who was up in the stands munching popcorn, and Sandy grinned and waved back.  
  
Ryan joined his team on the field.

* * *

By Sunday morning Seth had had enough.  
  
He had thought it was bad back when Ryan and Summer first started dating, ripping his heart out, tearing it into a million bits, stitching them back together and ramming it into his chest again. This was almost as bad in a less intense way.  
  
Watching Ryan drift robotically through each day, answering in monosyllables and never cracking a smile, was not a pleasant experience. Knowing that Summer was doing the same but without even Marissa around to confide in made it worse. Seth had tried to get Summer to talk to him but she evaded him almost as completely as she hid from Ryan. He so wished he could help her but when they did talk it was always about surface stuff.  
  
Both of his best friends were miserable and so Seth was miserable.  
  
But he had a plan to fix things. It wasn't really his plan. He had seen it put into effect on Full House, Dawson's Creek, the Brady Bunch and even in the cartoon world of Hey Arnold! It was a foolproof plan for patching up quarrels, whether between lovers, friends or siblings. He was confident it would solve things, but first there was a little groundwork he needed to accomplish.  
  
To be continued....


	5. 5

"The Words" – Chapter 5  
  
Monday evening Summer got a phone call from Marissa. On hearing her friend's voice she immediately felt guilty for putting off contacting her all of these weeks. For the first month and a half, clinic rules had prohibited Marissa from receiving outside phone calls, but even after Jimmy had given Summer the okay, she still hadn't been able to bring herself to call. Her excuses were endless; she didn't know what to say, Marissa probably didn't want to hear that life in Newport was going on just fine without her, she didn't have time to call today but she would be sure to get to it – tomorrow. The truth was that Summer was still racked with guilt for Marissa becoming a full-fledged raging alcoholic.  
  
Sure, she always knew her friend drank a lot, but up until fairly recently Summer drank a lot too. It didn't seem like a big deal. It wasn't until after Summer and Ryan hooked up and Marissa drew away from them and began hanging out with jocks from Pacific that the drinking got really bad. And with no close friends to watch over her and Jimmy all starry eyed about his new relationship with Hailey, it was almost too late by the time her addiction brought her to another overdose of vodka and painkillers.  
  
This time Julie had her way and Marissa was whisked off to Fairhaven to recover.  
  
"Hi, Summer," Marissa's voice sounded a little hoarse and different somehow. From the roughness Summer guessed that she was smoking again.  
  
"Marissa!" she exclaimed. "How are you? I'm sorry I haven't called. I've been like incredibly busy at school this year and, uh, I...." She was already fresh out of excuses, unable to think of a single credible reason for not checking in with her best friend.  
  
"It's okay." Marissa laughed. "I didn't call you either," she pointed out. "Besides, let's face it, things were weird between us long before I came here."  
  
Summer didn't know how to respond to that. "I'm so sorry about...."  
  
"Don't be. We already worked through our drama over Ryan ... several times. Let's not go there again. I'm here because of me, not because of anything you did." She laughed again, short and hard with a bitter edge. "You wouldn't believe how many sessions it took to be able to say that and mean it."  
  
Summer was taken aback by this outspoken, self-deprecating Marissa. This was not the girl she had been friends with all her life, but she thought she kind of liked the new Marissa.  
  
"Well, it's not the same around here without you," Summer offered. "I really miss you, and," she added teasingly, "Harbour is at a loss without a decent social chair. You wouldn't believe some of the lame activities they've planned now that Becca Crowder is in charge."  
  
They small talked and gossiped about mutual friends and people in the community for several minutes and then there was the inevitable awkward lull in the conversation.  
  
"Look, Summer, I actually called you for a reason," Marissa finally admitted bluntly. "Seth called and told me about you and Ryan breaking up and that you needed to talk about it but wouldn't with him."  
  
Again Summer was shocked. The old Marissa would never speak so plainly. "I...uh..." she stammered.  
  
"So what happened?" she asked.  
  
"We're just taking some time apart," Summer delivered her stock answer.  
  
"And why is that?" Marissa pried.  
  
"Well, I thought.... It seemed like we were getting 'too' close. Like it wasn't healthy and I was, um, losing my own identity. So I asked for some 'me' time."  
  
"Nuh-uh. Not buying it," the New Marissa quickly replied. "Ryan isn't controlling. If anything I'd imagine it was you who had him steamrolled into doing whatever you wanted. What's really going on, Summer?"  
  
Summer hated being grilled but seemed powerless not to answer Marissa's questions. "I don't know. I just feel.... He makes me care too...." she trailed off. "I don't like it. How much I need to be with him."  
  
"So you finally admit you're in love," Marissa stated softly.  
  
"No I'm not," Summer snapped.  
  
"Yes, you are," she calmly replied. "Have you told him this?"  
  
There was a long pause. "No."  
  
"Are you waiting for him to say it first? Because that will never happen," Marissa told her. "But it doesn't mean he doesn't feel it, you know. He's just even more scared of commitment than you are."  
  
Summer was suddenly struck by how surrealistic it was to have her best friend counseling her about the boy she had basically stolen from her.  
  
Marissa sighed. "Okay, Summer, I want you to listen because I can only stand to say this once. You've always understood Ryan better than I ever did. You knew how to reach him and what he needed more than I did so don't be dumb about him now! Sure he might never say it, but does he ACT like he loves you?"  
  
A rolodex of memories began flipping past in Summer's mind, faster and faster: Ryan holding doors for her or patiently toting her purchases when she dragged him on shopping expeditions, massaging her blistered feet after she wore her new shoes too long, laughing as she teased him about his anal retentive neatness, listening intently when she poured out her feelings about her mom, talking to her on the phone at night when she couldn't sleep, reassuring her when she expressed her feelings of low self worth, whispering to her that she was beautiful as they slow danced together, carrying her to bed with a lascivious smile on his face, tickling her until she was breathless from shrieking and looking at her – oh, the way he looked at her – when they made love.  
  
"Yes," she finally whispered, "he does."  
  
"Then you know what you need to do," Marissa finished. "Now can we please talk about something – anything else?  
  
"Well," Summer said, abruptly shaking off her reflective mood. "There's a new café where Java Joe's used to be, Mike Kennedy and Tanya Slider finally broke up, and you'd better come home soon because I can't stand hanging out with Amber and Whitney much longer. Amber's a dizzy bitch and Whitney's just completely self-centered. I miss you!"  
  
"I miss you too," Marissa replied with a smile in her voice.

* * *

Tuesday after school Seth cornered Ryan in the pool house and Ryan could tell from the look on his face that they were finally going to have The Talk, whether he wanted to or not.  
  
"So, it's been over a week and we still haven't really discussed what happened between you and Summer. You ready to talk about it now?"  
  
"No. Not really." Ryan studied the screen of his laptop, refusing to look up at Seth.  
  
"Okay." Seth dropped down on the corner of the bed and began fiddling with a Game Boy as he talked. "Do you miss her, dude?"  
  
"I said I don't want to talk about it."  
  
"But you miss her, right?" he pressed doggedly.  
  
Ryan shrugged and continued to study the glowing screen and silence fell – for all of two seconds.  
  
"Let me ask you something that might seem obvious but knowing you.... Have you ever told her how you feel?" Seth asked.  
  
"How I feel? I don't know how I feel?" Ryan evaded.  
  
"You don't know how you feel," Seth reiterated dryly. "Well, all right, Ryan, let's review." He ticked off the items on his fingers. "We've established that you miss her and you think of her, like, all the time. Probably dream about her at night. I'm guessing it feels like someone stole the oxygen from the room every time you see her. You miss talking to her and kissing her, but you want her happiness enough that you've given her 'space' when she asked for it. What do you think that all adds up to?"  
  
Ryan shrugged again and leaned a little closer to the computer, peering at the screen intently as though trying to figure out a difficult equation. He knew Seth couldn't see from where he sat that it was actually a baseball site with a spreadsheet of players and their statistics.  
  
"Okay. Now you're just being difficult on purpose." Seth sighed in annoyance, tossing the Game Boy down on the bed. He turned to Ryan and said with some ferocity, "Look, I didn't go through the pain of losing her to you just so you could screw up now. Go to her and fix things, man. You of all people know that underneath her 'in your face' attitude Summer's kind of fragile. Did you think she was going to say 'I love you' first?"  
  
"I don't know that she does." Ryan finally snapped the laptop shut and met his friend's angry eyes with a steely look of his own. "She's the one who broke up with me, remember?"  
  
"To-may-to, To-mah-to," Seth scoffed. "It doesn't matter! You've got to give it a shot, unless you want to keep walking around like a miserable, brooding robot. Talk to her."  
  
Ryan didn't answer but folded his arms defensively and let his gaze slip away again.  
  
Seth narrowed his eyes and adopted a deadly serious tone. "So, after everything we've been through you're willing to give Summer up just because you're too scared to take a chance? I thought you were braver than that."  
  
Ryan still didn't answer but he had that pensive look that told Seth it was time to let it rest. Nothing could budge Ryan when he got really stubborn, but if Seth let him stew for a while he usually got results.  
  
"Think about it, man," he said, shrugging. He stood up. "I gotta hit the books now but if you're up for it I can kick your ass in Mortal Kombat after dinner."  
  
"Sure."  
  
Seth was almost out the door when Ryan called, "Seth!" He turned and Ryan gave him a level gaze. "I heard what you said and ... I'll think about it."  
  
"Okay." Seth flashed him a quick grin and left the pool house.

* * *

But despite Ryan's promise to 'think about it' and Summer's admittance to Marissa that she cared, by Thursday it became obvious that neither of the recalcitrant lovers was going to break and make that first contact. Seth decided to swing into phase two of his plan. He approached Ryan in the pool house as he was putting away his clean laundry.  
  
"Ryan, buddy, let's go out to eat tonight. I made reservations at Lien Su for 6:30. How does that sound?" Seth started speaking the moment he entered the room, throwing himself across the bed with a bounce that knocked over a pile of neatly folded undershirts.  
  
"It's a school night. Your mom and dad usually like to do the family dinner thing when they get home." Ryan said without turning around. He was busy arranging his socks by color in the top drawer of his bureau.  
  
"Yes, but tonight they both called to say they'd be working late and that we should order a pizza or something."  
  
"So let's order a pizza." He walked over to the bed and began straightening the shirts.  
  
"But I'm in the mood for Chinese. Humor me."  
  
"Well, we could still order in. We don't have to go out."  
  
"Ah, but the point of eating out is to eat OUT," Seth argued, rolling over from his back to his stomach. "In other words, to practice our chopstick skills in a new and interesting environment."  
  
"I don't do chopsticks," Ryan reminded with a smile, as he carried the stack of shirts to his dresser.  
  
"This will be a good occasion for you to learn ... or you can eat with a fork, either one. But either way I want to go out. Besides, I've already made the reservation." Seth had honed whining to an art form and Ryan knew from his tone that this was going to go on all night if he didn't give in.  
  
"Fine. Whatever." He shrugged and wedged the shirts into an already overflowing drawer.  
  
"Great!" Seth leaped up from the bed. "All right. I've got a little homework to do before we go so I'll see you in," he looked at his watch, "an hour."  
  
"Okay," Ryan sighed and tried one last time. "Are you sure you want to go out? I have an unbelievable amount of homework tonight and it would be a lot easier to...."  
  
"I'm absolutely sure." Seth paused at the door. "Also, you should probably dress up a little."  
  
"I have to change now?" Ryan complained. "How upscale can it be? It's a Chinese restaurant."  
  
"See you in a while," Seth reiterated and left.  
  
An hour later Seth was back and harassing Ryan about leaving on time.  
  
"I'm not running late," Ryan said. "All I have to do is put on my shoes and we can go."  
  
"That's what you're wearing?"  
  
Ryan looked down at the black shirt over a gray T. "Yeah. What's wrong with it?"  
  
"Nothing. But the pants...."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Maybe you should wear something besides jeans."  
  
At Ryan's glare he added, "Or not. Those are just fine."  
  
Seth looked at his watch. "We have to go right now. We're going to be late. Don't want to miss that reservation."  
  
"Calm down. We're not going to be late and even if we are I'm sure they'd hold the table for a little while."  
  
"No. No Ryan. You lose your table at a place like this if you don't get there on time and you don't get it back."  
  
Ryan sighed and laced up his boots. "Ready now," he said as he stood up.  
  
"Good. Great." Seth looked at his watch again. "We should just make it."

* * *

At the restaurant they were seated almost immediately and the waitress took their drink orders. Five minutes later she returned with their beverages and Ryan was ready to order but Seth was still studiously examining the menu. He looked up after several seconds to find Ryan watching him.  
  
"Seth, you know you always get Kung Pao Shrimp. Let's order," he said impatiently.  
  
Seth held up a hand. "I might get something different this time." He turned to the waitress. "I'm not quite ready. Could you come back in a couple of minutes?"  
  
She nodded and left.  
  
Seth put down his menu and began to look around the restaurant. "Nice ambience. Very exotic, don't you think?"  
  
Ryan glanced up at the standard décor of the mid priced restaurant. It was the usual dragons and peacocks and a lot of bright red trim. "Sure." He drummed his fingers on the table.  
  
"So, what are you going to order?" Seth asked, picking up his menu again.  
  
"Number five I guess; egg foo young and fried rice."  
  
"Excellent choice," Seth said nodding and examining the picture on the menu. "Mm-hm." He glanced at his watch then began turning menu pages again.  
  
Ryan sighed.  
  
Several minutes slipped past.  
  
"Look, I thought you were starving. Why don't you just pick something so we can order?" Ryan finally said.  
  
"I'm working on it. These things can't be rushed."  
  
Seth's cell phone rang and he flipped it open. "Hello?"  
  
"Look, Seth, I know I said I'd meet you for dinner, but I really don't feel like going out tonight," Summer said.  
  
"Just a minute." Seth held up his index finger to signal one minute at Ryan then gestured to the phone. He got up from the table and walked back toward the rest rooms.  
  
"You have to come!" he said urgently. "I've got reservations."  
  
"Can't you cancel them? I don't even really like Chinese."  
  
"Of course you do. Who doesn't like Chinese?"  
  
"Me," she replied emphatically. "Besides, like I said, I'm just not in the mood to...."  
  
"Well, what do you like to eat?" Seth asked desperately. "We could go somewhere else. Please, Summer, I just really need to talk to you about ... Nikki. I could use your womanly advice. Please!"  
  
"Cohen, I hate it when you beg," Summer sighed, still clearly reluctant. "Okay. Fine."  
  
"And we can eat anywhere you want," Seth added. "But let's make it soon 'cause I'm starving."  
  
"How about Mexican," she said with improved enthusiasm. "I wouldn't mind a fajita."  
  
"Perfect. We'll meet at the Mexican restaurant in," Seth looked at his watch, "twenty, okay?"  
  
"All right."  
  
Seth flipped off the phone and returned to his seat where Ryan eyed him with one raised brow.  
  
"Sorry about that. It was Nikki wanting to switch shifts," Seth said and opened the menu again. "You know what? I feel really stupid about this but there's just nothing on the menu that appeals to me tonight. I know you had your heart set on Chinese, Ryan, but would you mind terribly going to a Mexican restaurant instead?"  
  
"I didn't pick Chinese. You picked Chinese and no, it's rude to walk out like that. Just choose something," Ryan said.  
  
"But you know how it is when you have your mind set on one perfect food and it's the only thing that will satisfy you. Tonight I'm craving tostadas; crunchy, cheesy, spicy tostadas. Doesn't that sound good, huh? Greasy, salty, beefy...."  
  
"Seth, I really don't care," Ryan snapped. "I just want to eat something – anything – and go back home again. If tostadas will make your day, then we'll go eat tostadas."  
  
"Check please." Seth waved a hand in the air to get the waitress's attention.  
  
Fifteen minutes later they arrived at the packed parking lot of Mi Casa – Su Casa.  
  
Ryan took one look at the lot and said, "There's no way. We'll be waiting an hour to get a table here. Let's just drive through Taco Bell or something."  
  
"No. Taco Bell tostadas aren't the same," Seth argued. "Let's at least check and see how long the wait is."  
  
Seth was starting to sound frazzled and desperate and Ryan looked at him curiously. "What the hell is going on, Seth? You're acting neurotic even for you. You've never been so picky about what you ate before."  
  
"Ah! A parking spot," Seth exclaimed, quickly whipping the car into a space at the end of a long line of parked cars.  
  
They got out of the car and Seth walked so quickly toward the building that Ryan was pressed to keep up with him. "What the hell...?" he muttered again under his breath.  
  
The lobby of the restaurant was standing room only. Seth pushed through the throng to get to the hostess station with Ryan close behind him. "Two. Non Smoking," he said.  
  
"It'll be a half hour wait," the hostess replied, taking down his last name.  
  
"That's fine," Seth answered quickly before Ryan could argue. There wasn't room to sit in the waiting area so they went back outside to stand in a huddle with the other people waiting to be seated.  
  
Twenty minutes later Seth was nervously scanning the parking lot when Ryan finally said, "All right. Something's up. What are you looking for?"  
  
Seth's ringing cell phone cut him off. Seth checked caller ID and confirmed that it was Summer again. "Hello?"  
  
"Cohen, where are you?" she exploded. "I've been waiting here for, like, an hour!"  
  
"Waiting where?" he asked looking around the parking lot in confusion. "Are you already in the restaurant?"  
  
"Who are you talking to?" Ryan interrupted suspiciously.  
  
"Well, of course I'm in the restaurant. Where are you?" Summer asked.  
  
"Outside waiting for a table."  
  
"I've got a table. Just come in."  
  
"Oh! Okay. Be right there." Seth clicked off the phone and faced Ryan's enquiring eyes. "It was, uh...." He began to blush. There was no cover he could think of for what Ryan had heard him say on the phone.  
  
"Who where you talking to?" Ryan crossed his arms over his chest and began to frown. "Funny thing about that. A ... friend is actually holding a table for us," he gestured at the building, "inside."  
  
Seth tried a grin but Ryan's frown deepened into a scowl. "What friend?"  
  
"Well, Ryan, let's go find out." Seth began to walk toward the door, but Ryan caught his arm.  
  
"Seth, what have you done? Is Summer in there? Does she know I'm with you?"  
  
Seth smiled harder.  
  
"She doesn't," Ryan surmised. He shook his head disbelievingly. "This is one of your 'plans.' What the hell were you thinking?" His eyes narrowed. "Look. You go ahead and eat. I'll wait in the car." He started to turn away but this time Seth grabbed at his arm.  
  
"Ryan. Come on. You've got to come in and see her. It won't be awkward, I promise. Cause we're all just friends eating together, right?"  
  
"How could it be anything BUT awkward?" Ryan said incredulously. "I'll talk to Summer in my own time ... when I'm ready. This," he gestured at the restaurant, "isn't helping. It's butting in where you have no business."  
  
"By the time you're 'ready' it could be too late," Seth said. He turned his entreating gaze on Ryan. "Please. Come in. Talk."  
  
Ryan sighed and tensed his jaw. His eyes cut away to the side and then back to Seth. He sighed again, heavily. "Okay."  
  
Very reluctantly he followed Seth into the restaurant. Again they pressed through the crowd in the lobby to the hostess station and Seth asked about the Roberts party. The hostess scanned the list of previously seated guests and said there was no one by that name. Seth told her to look for 'Cohen' and she looked at the list again.  
  
"I'm sorry. No one by that name has been seated," she said impatiently.  
  
"Well, do you mind if we just take a quick look around? We're meeting our friend, a dark-haired girl about this high," Seth raised his hand to chest level. "She's been waiting for us."  
  
"No singles have been seated in the past hour," the hostess emphatically said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have...."  
  
Seth's phone rang again.  
  
"Hellooo? Cohen? How long does it take you to walk inside a restaurant?" Summer's irritation was evident. "This place isn't exactly big."  
  
Seth looked around at the multi-roomed Mi Casa - Su Casa and a thought suddenly struck him. "Um, Summer, which Mexican restaurant did you think we were meeting at?"  
  
Ryan rolled his eyes and shook his head.  
  
"Mi Ranchito, of course," she snapped. "Everybody knows it's the most authentic. Why? What restaurant did you think I meant? Cohen, tell me you're not clear across town at Mi Casa."  
  
"Um," he said again.  
  
"Look. Let's just forget it for tonight," Summer said. "I'm going to grab some take-out and go home now. If you want to talk to me about your girl problems, call me or come over later."  
  
Before he could say another word, she had hung up. Seth closed his phone slowly and turned to Ryan with a sheepish grin. "Sorry. It wasn't supposed to go like this."  
  
"Obviously." Ryan offered a small smile in return. He paused and then added, "I understand that you were only trying to help so ... thanks."  
  
Seth nodded.  
  
"But don't do it again, okay?"  
  
"Never," Seth agreed. "Reuniting people goes a lot smoother on TV than it does in real life."

* * *

Later that evening Ryan lay on his back with his hands behind his head, staring up at the pool house ceiling and thinking about what Seth had tried to accomplish. The longer he thought about it the more touched he was by the gesture. Typical Seth, he had rushed into an ill planned scheme without weighing the consequences of manipulating other peoples' lives, but as always his heart was in the right place. And as farcical as the evening had turned out to be, Ryan realized that Seth was right. He had to quit brooding and try to fix this.  
  
He rolled over on his side and picked up the phone. His heart beat in his throat as he heard Summer's phone ring and every cell in his body told him to hang up before she answered, but he only strengthened his grip on the little phone and waited grimly for her to pick up.  
  
When Summer answered, she obviously hadn't checked caller ID. "Seth, what now?"  
  
"It's me," Ryan said.  
  
"Oh. ... Oh!" she answered inanely.  
  
"Can I come over," he asked without preamble. "I want to talk."  
  
"Oh. Of course. I mean, sure," Summer said. Her voice shaded with each word from surprise to alarm, perhaps excitement, and then studied nonchalance.  
  
"Okay." Unable to think of anything else to add, Ryan hung up. So far so good. That part went pretty easy. He got up and retrieved his shoes from where he had kicked them off earlier.

* * *

When he got to Summer's house and stood on her front step, waiting for her to answer the doorbell, he began to get nervous again. He hadn't really thought out what he was going to say and he tried to locate the right words quickly before she opened the door.  
  
But it was already too late. Summer stood, framed in the doorway, a voluptuous goddess in tight jeans. He turned toward her and felt his throat seizing up and words scattering away from his brain like fall leaves before a storm. He drew a deep breath and opened his mouth then froze.  
  
After an awkward moment, she saved him by asking, "Do you want to come in?"  
  
He nodded and entered the now familiar hallway, remembering the first time he had come to her house and how little he knew her then. The memory made him realize how very well he knew her now, how much they had shared over the past months, and that gave him the confidence he needed to be able to speak. Still he kept his eyes down, staring somewhere around her kneecaps as he addressed his slow, halting words to her. "This spending time apart thing isn't working for me."  
  
She waited.  
  
"I don't like it."  
  
She remained silent.  
  
He bit his bottom lip and darted a quick glance up to her face. "I miss you."  
  
"Yes," she said softly, encouragingly.  
  
"I-I love you," he mumbled, and then, as if realizing how uncertain it sounded, he repeated the words with conviction. He met her gaze straight on and said it again, "I love you."  
  
"Ahh," Summer let out a little cry. Her eyes were suddenly brimming with tears, which she brushed angrily away. "Oh shit." She lunged at Ryan, practically knocking him off balance as she threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder.  
  
"Shit. Shit. Shit," she sobbed, her voice muffled against him. "Me too."  
  
Ryan reveled in the familiar weight of her in his arms, the tickle of her hair against his chin. "Then what was the whole 'time apart' thing about? Why didn't you just tell me instead of breaking up with me?" He rubbed his hand down her back and kissed her hair.  
  
She pulled away to look up into his face with teary eyes, and then slapped his shoulder with the palm of her hand. "Why do you think?" she demanded. "I was scared, jackass. You fall in love with people they'll generally disappoint you."  
  
Ryan nodded his understanding and agreement.  
  
"I don't want to get hurt like that," she finished.  
  
"You won't," he promised. He gathered her in his arms and pulled her close, hugging her so tightly it almost hurt. Summer squeezed him right back.  
  
"I love you too," she whispered into his shoulder, so quietly he barely heard the words.  
  
He buried his face in that glossy black hair, nuzzling her head and breathing in her scent. "Good," he whispered back.  
  
It all seemed so simple and obvious now that Summer was in his arms. Ryan suddenly couldn't seem to remember what all the trouble had been about, what ridiculous notion had kept them from each other for the past two weeks.  
  
He pulled back enough to take her face in his hands and gently tilt it toward him then he leaned in and delicately brushed his lips across hers. Summer's mouth fell slightly open as if his touch had triggered some automatic response mechanism. She lifted her mouth up toward his and kissed him back. Her lips and tongue were soft and welcoming.  
  
After they had kissed for several long moments, Summer stepped away from him and went to close the front door then she came back to Ryan and took his hand. "You want to go up to my room?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
"Aren't you, like, way past curfew?" she asked.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Well you damn well better not let the Cohens' ground you because I can't take another week like the last two," she told him sternly as she led him toward the stairs.  
  
"They won't find out. And if they do I'll plead 'extenuating circumstances,'" Ryan explained with a smile. "Kirsten would want me to be here."  
  
Summer looked back over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow. "Kirsten?"  
  
"It seems everybody wants to give advice and tell me how to run my love life."  
  
"And what did 'everybody' tell you?" Summer asked.  
  
"That I should say ... that." He was dismayed to find out that it was still difficult to say the words.  
  
"Well, 'everybody' was right," she said. "I only talked to Marissa, but she told me the same thing." Summer stopped again and turned around to face Ryan.  
  
They were eye to eye since she was a step higher. "I'm not as brave as you. I couldn't say it first." She cleared her throat. "But I'm saying it now. I love you, Ryan." She blinked once then looked away, unable to hold his gaze any longer. Taking his hand again, Summer continued to lead him upstairs to her room.  
  
To be continued....  
  
There will be a short, sweet, fluffy epilogue to follow, which I've already written and will post in a couple more days. 


	6. The Last Words

"The Last Words"  
  
An epilogue.  
  
Thanks again for all your fabulous feedback. I put Ryan and Summer through the emotional ringer and now they shall both get a fluffy epilogue for a reward.

* * *

Ryan was hot and sweaty from working the afternoon shift at the Lighthouse. He had already shed his button down shirt in the car and he began peeling his Tshirt off even before he was completely inside the pool house. His pants were sticky from the soda a little kid had managed to knock over as Ryan was serving the table. Orange Crush had splashed from his crotch to his ankle. All he wanted was a hot shower, a short nap and to see Summer – in that order.  
  
Therefore, when he removed the T-shirt from his face and found her sitting in the middle of his bed wearing only the tiniest gold bikini and a huge, gift-wrapped box on her lap, he was almost taken aback.  
  
"Summer!" he exclaimed, "You're here."  
  
Her raven black hair tumbled over naked shoulders; her deep brown eyes were luminescent as they gazed up at him; her full lips eschewed their usual pout and were instead drawn into a big smile that displayed her dental perfection. How could he be annoyed? Ryan tossed his shirt on the floor, dropped down on the bed and leaned in to kiss her.  
  
She pushed the colorful package off her lap and reached for him, cradling his face with one hand and rubbing the other over his bare chest as they kissed.  
  
"Sorry," he explained breathlessly, when he pulled away, "I'm kind of gross right now. Give me a minute to grab a shower?"  
  
"You can grab anything you want," she replied pertly.  
  
He grinned, let out a little growl and bent to gently bite her breast through the satiny fabric of her swimsuit. Summer pushed him away with a tousle of his hair and Ryan bounded off the bed and into the bathroom.  
  
When he emerged a scant ten minutes later, dressed only in boxers and still damp from the shower, Summer again had the ubiquitous box on her lap and was looking as excited as Seth on Christmukkah morning.  
  
"What's that all about?" he asked, pointing to the present.  
  
"For you."  
  
"It's not my birthday," he reminded her then looked suddenly alarmed. "There wasn't some anniversary I was supposed to remember was there?" He was picturing one of those 'two month anniversary of the first time we held hands' type things that were so important to girls.  
  
"No. No anniversary," Summer said. "This is just a celebration of you. And because I love shopping. You know, I found out it's actually almost more fun shopping for someone else than it is for yourself." Her voice expressed amazement at the concept.  
  
Ryan sat on the foot of the bed and continued to look doubtfully at the package. "But I don't have anything for you."  
  
"Doesn't matter." She thrust it toward him. "Here. Open."  
  
He gingerly accepted the gift and began to carefully remove the wrapping paper so that he wouldn't rip it. Summer finally sighed in frustration and grabbed the box back from him.  
  
"Let me. I want to give you the stuff in a certain order anyway." She quickly dispensed with the ribbon, shredded the paper and opened the box then she handed him the first gift.  
  
"A package of undershirts," he said in bemusement, looking at the plastic wrapped three-pack of shirts.  
  
"Classic Ryan," she explained. "That's to show you that I appreciate your look and wouldn't change it for anything. The white tank works for you. You've got the biceps for it."  
  
"Um, thanks?" he said in embarrassment.  
  
"Okay. With that said, how about this?" She held up the next item from the box.  
  
"That's ... that's a Hawaiian shirt," he stammered, staring at the blossom splashed shirt in dismay.  
  
"This is to remind you that it's okay to introduce color into your wardrobe."  
  
Summer responded to the look on his face with a disappointed, "You don't like it?"  
  
"Uh. No. It's g-great. Yeah." He quickly covered.  
  
She burst out laughing and tossed the shirt at his lying face. "Kidding! Amber's throwing a Halloween luau at the end of the month and we have to dress up. After that you can burn the thing if you want as far as I'm concerned."  
  
Ryan tossed the shirt to one side and grimaced. "You're funny."  
  
"I know." She reached into the box and pulled out a smaller box, which she handed to him. In it was folded a plain white Oxford shirt.  
  
"Because you look sooo hot in a button down that's unbuttoned," she told him, leaning forward and running an appreciative hand over his abs. His stomach muscles twitched at her touch.  
  
"Thanks," he murmured, blushing.  
  
She reached into her box again.  
  
"There's more?" he exclaimed. "Look. I feel really weird about this. I didn't...."  
  
"Shush!" she said, raising her hand imperiously. "You forget how much I love to shop. This is fun for me. Don't spoil it."  
  
He shushed and accepted the next small box she handed him. It was a new game for the Playstation; a racing game.  
  
"This is because everything you guys play is something Seth picked out. I saw you looking at this at Best Buy last time we went. You know, Ryan," Summer's voice was gentle, "you don't always have to do everything Seth wants to do."  
  
She amended, "Unless he tells you to make up with your girlfriend and tell her you love her. Then you should probably obey."  
  
"Thanks," Ryan said again. He put the game down on the bed and leaned over to kiss Summer slowly and sweetly. Pulling back, he looked into her eyes and stroked the side of her face with his hand. "I'm sorry I took so long to say it."  
  
She smiled. "Well, I'm sorry I broke up with you and made us both miserable for two whole weeks instead of just saying it, so we're even." She kissed him again, then placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back. "Two more," she announced.  
  
This time she presented him with a tiny box, which contained one small silver hoop.  
  
"An earring," Ryan said. He looked up at her to see if she was joking again. "You want me to get my ear pierced?"  
  
Summer shrugged. "Not necessarily. Do YOU want to get your ear pierced?"  
  
"I, uh, never thought about it." He paused and considered. "It's not exactly my ... my...."  
  
"Style? Yeah. I guess you're right," she agreed and examined his almost naked body from head to toe. "Of course," she said thoughtfully, "there are other things that can be pierced." Her eyes dwelled on his left nipple and Ryan had to fight the self-conscious urge to fold his arms across his chest.  
  
"Whatever." She shrugged. "I'll hold on to this for you and we'll see." She grinned at him mischievously. "Maybe we can skip the piercing and go straight to getting you a tattoo on your ass that says 'Property of Summer.'"  
  
Ryan chuckled nervously.  
  
Finally Summer quit staring at him and reaching to the bottom of her box, pulled out a leather bound book. She handed it to him almost shyly. "I know this is kind of a girly thing, and you're not the type to keep a journal but when I was in therapy after my mom left ... my therapist recommended it. I thought it was stupid and told him so, but he was right. It helped me to understand what I was feeling when I wrote it all down and I thought ... you might like to try it. You can feel comfortable writing anything you want to because nobody else will see it. "  
  
She paused and gave him a searching look before adding, "I, uh, wrote something to you at the beginning." He started to open the book and she stopped him with her hand. "But don't read it now."  
  
Ryan looked at her questioningly. Summer blushed and ducked her head. "It's pretty mushy and sentimental," she explained in an embarrassed voice. "But I mean every word. I want you to be able to see it in writing if you ever doubt that I, uh, care."  
  
He nodded solemnly, but smiled inside at her sweetness. "Okay. Thank you."  
  
Ryan sat back and looked at his little pile of gifts strewn across the bed. He felt overwhelmed at Summer's generosity, and a little desperate. What could he possibly give her in return? He wouldn't dare buy her jewelry or an article of clothing because he could never guess her style choices. He would have liked to give her something meaningful and personal directly from his own possessions but running through the shortlist of what he owned, nothing seemed appropriate. She already owned his wrist cuff, which he had lost to her during that strip study session last spring.  
  
Then he realized that tangible possessions weren't all he had to give. There were the words she had longed to hear which he had withheld for far too long. Ryan looked into Summer's eyes, swallowed hard because it cost him a lot to say stuff like this and imbued his next words with all the intensity and conviction he could muster.  
  
"I love you, Summer," he said gravely, his voice almost shaking with sincerity. "I've loved you for a long time now." He paused to breathe. "You've done more for me than you'll ever know and I ... uh, thank you." He could feel his face flaming as if he had a sunburn and he quickly dropped his eyes.  
  
"I love you too," she whispered, taking one of his hands in hers.  
  
There was silence except for the drone of the pool pump outside. Summer cleared her throat. "Okay. You're going to be working this all the time now, aren't you?" she teased. "I can see it. Every time you want to get your way or distract me from something I want to do it's going to be 'I love you, Summer' cause you know I'll melt. I see where this is going. Manipulator!"  
  
Ryan was grateful to her for breaking the tension. He laughed and pushed her onto her back against the pillows. He crawled up her body, straddling her hips and pressing against her groin. "I have other ways of controlling you," he rumbled in his deepest voice. He looked down at her with half lidded eyes then dove in to nibble on her neck. Summer shrieked as he tickled the hollow of her throat with his tongue.  
  
She wiggled beneath him, gasping for air and laughing. "Stop! Stop it!" she begged as he moved his hands to all the sensitive parts of her body and tickled.  
  
He finally stopped and allowed her to push him off of her and switch positions so that she straddled him. She pinned his arms beside his head with a firm grip and Ryan did his best to look penitent and subdued.  
  
"Who's got the power now, baby?" she asked, rubbing her crotch against the bulge in his boxers. His eyes glazed over with lust and he shook off her restraining hands on his wrists and reached for her, wrapping a palm around the back of her neck and pulling her down for a deep, penetrating kiss.  
  
"You do," he murmured against her lips.  
  
"Just so you know," she answered.  
  
Then they both quit talking and showed each other how they felt without any more words.The EndSorry gang, no hot and heavy sex scene this time. I wanted to keep a PG-13 rating and also I wasn't in the mood to write it. You'd be surprised how difficult it is to write the action of a sex scene – you have to do a lot of envisioning to see if your positioning of body parts is even feasible and then you have to find creative new ways to describe things to keep it interesting and differentiate it from every other sex fic out there. So for a dose of sex read the last chapter of "Summer Time" again. 


End file.
